


The Sordid Tale of Hayamura Mika

by manarmalade



Category: Thus Spoke Kishibe Rohan - Fandom, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Domestic Violence, Gen, JJBWW, Jojo's Bizarre Women Week 2020, Thus Spoke Kishibe Rohan episode 2, Thus Spoke Kishibe Rohan episode 9, and naoko is a better assassin than all of la squadra lets be honest, domestic abuse, except risotto, im pretty sure that this is the only fic for the rohan ova but oh well, mika and naoko are friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manarmalade/pseuds/manarmalade
Summary: Hayamura Mika has noticed the oddities of her boyfriend for a long time, watching as his obsession with fitness spirals out of control. Luckily she has a good friend to help her deal with him.
Relationships: Mika Hayamura & Yoma Hashimoto
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Thus Spoke Hayamura Mika

Mika Hayamura considered herself lucky to have a boyfriend such as Yoma Hashimoto. He was beautiful, hired to be a model when a recruiter saw him on the street. He was successful, starting from a small gig and working his way to becoming a model for several large brands and magazines. He was rather wealthy, because of course these sorts of careers pay well. 

Really now, she should be happy that he even accepted to go out with her in the first place, much less becoming her boyfriend. That’s what her mother said. Her friends too, were supportive of the relationship, always cooing over the photos of them together that Mika posted online. She didn’t understand how they didn’t see it, how no one mentioned that it had been months since he had actually smiled in those photos. Even longer, she thought, since the two of them had gone on a date night. 

It was his exercise routine that seemed to take precedence over all else in Yoma’s life. He couldn’t go out on the weekends because he was in the gym all day, in the gym every morning too. And when the gym was closed he would work out at home, scattering various kinds of equipment all over the floor. 

At first, she really enjoyed these home workouts. I mean, come on, who  _ doesn’t  _ want to see their boyfriend shirtless and sweaty in the living room? But there has, for as long as she’s known him, always been this…  _ change _ that comes over him when doing that. All dead eyed and monotone, he’ll snap if she interrupts. A sharp word when she asks him to scoot a little so she can see the TV, an argument when he needs to work out on the night of the holiday party she has been planning for weeks. 

An argument he won, not to mention. All through that evening the rhythmic sound of high knees and clapping push-ups could be heard from their bedroom. 

  
  


All this and more she regaled Naoko Osato in the sort of rambling story that one is wont to do in the presence of a close, loyal friend. 

“And the thing is, Naoko, I really think he’s changing! He’s always been careful of what he looks like, sure, I mean, he is a model! But last night I caught him doing bicep curls while staring at himself in the mirror, and when I came back two hours later he was doing the same thing!” she gestured with the spoon that she was using to mix cookie dough in a bowl. 

“I can definitely see the change, from what you’ve been saying, but are you sure he didn’t just put the weight down and come back later?” Naoko asked, plopping herself onto a nearby stool with a sigh. 

“No, he hadn’t moved an  _ inch _ . Same spot exactly.”

She shook her head while Naoko hummed thoughtfully, turning around to place the dish she had been scrubbing in the drying rack. The repetitive motion of mixing the dough helped to center her thoughts, scraping her spoon along the bottom to make sure there were no errant pockets of flour or sugar. Mika was here to help with the baking and set-up for the surprise birthday party of Naoko’s daughter, exactly the sort of little girl that would like the rainbow decorated cookies and extravagant pink cake. 

She stole a glance over to her friend, making sure to keep half an eye on her. Sure, Naoko’s daughter was eight years old at this point, but the circumstances of her birth still weighed heavily on her mother. 

Mika could remember, fresh in her mind despite how almost a decade had passed, how Naoko had come to her hysterical and terrified about a murder that must be kept secret and a body that seemed to defy all known laws of science. She had been certain that her child would be born cursed, that somehow this demon that plagued her would befoul her daughter as well. 

Luckily enough, it hadn’t. A healthy girl was born, inheriting solely her mother’s features, and Naoko continued to maintain the illusion of a perfect life to everyone but her most trusted confidante. Though they lived a little ways apart, they made sure to meet up in Morioh for tea and to visit each other frequently. 

“Did you talk to him about coming to that new bookshop next Saturday?” Naoko asked.

“Yeah, he said he has to go shopping for some more exercise equipment that day. Honestly, sometimes it’s so hard for him to find a free minute!” Mika made a frustrated gesture with the measuring cup that she was using to portion out dough onto the baking sheet.

“You know if you’ve got some spare time yourself you should really think about actually getting a driver’s license, you can’t just have your boyfriend drive you everywhere if he’s gonna be so obstinate about it.” 

“I know, I know. It’s just that even if I did, he would still barely let me use  _ his _ car for ‘frivolous shit’.” 

At the shocked eyebrow raise from the other woman Mika elaborated, “Exact quote! No joke, he really said that crap to me!”

“He’s always been an ass about helping me get places, and you know how much longer it takes if I use the bus system, but it’s like he really doesn’t care about anything other than modelling or working out!” She tossed the cup into the now-empty bowl a little more roughly than was necessary, and let out an annoyed huff. 

Naoko reached over to take the tray to the oven, and gave her arm a quick squeeze with a sympathetic frown. 

“Thanks,” Mika said simply.

* * *

Three weeks later, and the situation with her boyfriend had not improved. Not in the  _ slightest _ . In fact, it had become so, so much worse. The arguments were more frequent, often ending with Yoma simply refusing to hear her out. Mika constantly found herself tripping over the piles of exercise equipment that was scattered all across the floor, and though she by no means lived a sedentary life, her thin frame could barely lift the heavy dumbbells he used so that she could clear the rug to vacuum! 

Their latest disagreement had been two days ago, over 5000 yen missing from her wallet, which Yoma admitted he had used to buy a tub of protein powder that was on sale at the store. 

It rankled her, it truly did, at first because that was no small amount of money to be taking so casually, and then because he didn’t even see the need to apologize afterwards! Sure, as a couple they shared many things. Hell, he would always be irate if she used  _ his  _ stuff without asking. 

But what left her fuming, tapping her finger and bouncing her leg as she waited for the washing machine cycle to be finished, was the way that it seemed as if none of this mattered to him! It wasn’t important, it wasn’t worth her getting worked up, he had said. 

Mika relied on her boyfriend for most things; he drove her when she needed to go somewhere, his job paid the rent, it was his decision whether she could host people at their place or not. She made a little money from her part time job watching the kids at the local afterschool program, and so the fact that he took that money from her without so much as a word continued to bother her like a tick sunken deep into flesh. 

Stewing in her bitterness she tried to relax herself with cooking dinner. Cooking and baking tended to relax her, and she had a feeling that this recipe was turning out quite nicely. The scent of walleye pollock roe spaghetti drifted through their apartment, and her stomach was growling because of it. 

Just as she was carefully twisting the pasta into two bowls, garnishing nicely with some thinly sliced nori and green shiso, the door opened and Yoma entered. Perfect timing!

“Hi Yoma, dinner is ready!” she said. 

He didn’t say anything at first, stony faced as he dumped his bag onto the counter and hung his jacket on the wall. She made to walk towards him, but tripped over a weight on the floor, landing roughly on her hip. 

“Ouch! Don’t just leave your weights all over the floor!” she exclaimed, and after gingerly getting back up added, “How was your day? You know, I saw the photos from the shoot you were in last week, you looked so good!”

“Sorry, I can move them later. Work was fine today,” he answered curtly, without looking at her. 

“I cooked spaghetti with haddock, come on, let’s eat,” she pulled out her chair and sat down, gesturing for him to do the same. 

“Mika! I already told you, I can’t eat carbohydrates or fats!” he yelled, pointing at the offending food. She froze, her fork poised above her bowl, confused. 

“I can only eat protein that does my body good,” he said, “this is my menu.”

The small piece of paper that he shoved towards her at that point layed out a diet that was nothing short of draconian in its austerity, to the point where she wondered if someone could adhere to this and still keep their sanity intact! Boiled chicken, salad, egg whites, salmon, and a protein shake. Setting aside the immense willpower it would take for him to keep this up, she considered the cost as well. She would have to make two separate dinners each night, and separate all the meals and snacks the two of them ate entirely!

“Is this all you’re going to eat? It… It’s gonna take a little while to make dinner for you then, I don’t think we have all these ingredients,” despite the implicit offer of a second meal, she didn’t even know what the hell she could make that would be allowed by that god-awful diet. Just a salad? That’s not really filling enough to be a full dinner, maybe salmon with salad on the side? But what sauce or spices could she flavor it with?

Oh, to hell with it. First the money, and now this?! He could have at least told her earlier!

“No need, I already ate. I have to go to sleep,” he stated, turning to go to the bedroom. 

“Sleep? But it’s 7pm, and hey- wait!” she stood and reached towards him, “you said earlier you would pay me back for the money you used in my wallet!”

He made a noncommittal wave of his hand, “I can do that tomorrow, right now I have to take a shower and relax. Could you go?”

She was about to ask where he expected her to go, after all she lived in this apartment too, but the conversation was interrupted by the gentle ding of their doorbell. Whoever was at the door pressed the bell a few more times, insistently. Yoma huffed and stomped over to the door, throwing it open with his fist clenched at his side. 

“Hey! You don’t have to ring the doorbell so many times!” Yoma said. 

“I told you last time, don’t deliver packages at night! I’m trying to sleep!” he stepped aggressively towards the hapless delivery man, who was backing away from the threatening gestures he was giving. She rushed forward to grab onto her boyfriend’s shoulder, trying to drag him back into the apartment and away from doing anything rash. 

“I’m trying to sleep,” he said again, “if you wake me up with the bell, I’ll kill you!” 

After that proclamation, he abruptly whirled around and stomped back inside. Mika quietly apologized to the delivery man, and accepted the package with a breath. It was only after she shut the door with her hip and set the package down inside that her heart slowed back down from its frantic beat. 

Who was she kidding trying to grab his arm and hold him back like that. Honestly, if Yoma had really wanted to hurt that man, there's just about nothing that she could have done to stop him. Sure, sometimes his rude behavior annoyed her, but it was the outbursts that truly scared her. 

Mika never argued with him when he was in that state. 

She ate her pasta in silence, only interrupted by the clink of her chopsticks on the bowl and the soft whoosh of the shower running. 


	2. Thus Spoke Osato Naoko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The situation worsens.

A week on the dreadful diet, and Mika was reconsidering how much of a joke her offhand thought that no one could do this without going insane had really been. What were once odd habits and a fanatical dedication to exercise quickly became her boyfriend’s entire life. There was never a moment when he wasn’t exercising, preparing to exercise, or cooling off from exercising. 

She had even heard from his coworkers that he started showing up late to or entirely skipping work! Mika had told all of this to Naoko over some delicious leftover pasta while she was visiting a couple days ago, and it seemed that her friend was even more concerned than before about this situation. 

Despite the worried lines in her face and the sympathetic words she offered, there wasn’t all that much that she could do for Mika other than recommend that she bring one of Yoma’s ever dwindling number of friends over to try and get his mind off of fitness. Or look for a full-time job, just in case Yoma continued to put his modelling career in jeopardy. 

The first idea had failed spectacularly, with him refusing to even chat with his friend in favor of going to the gym. The second she continued to work on, sifting through possible job offers online, in the newspaper, or wherever around town she happened to see them. 

It was what she had been doing all evening, or would be, if not for the steady tap-tap noise of Yoma jumping rope in the living room that was driving her up the proverbial wall. 

“Hey, I told you not to do that in here,” she said, looking up from her magazine. 

“Oh, really?” he didn’t deign to look at her or stop jumping while he replied. 

“Yes! I said so earlier, remember?” her words had a harsh tone.

“Huh, I guess you should have told me before I started,” he said, still without breaking his jump rope rhythm or looking up. 

“Hey, come on, you’re damaging the floor,” she got up, “Enough!”

She reached her arm out, only to snatch it back when the jump rope whipped her hand. Letting out a yelp of pain, she stepped back. Despite opening her mouth to add more she didn’t say a word- why didn’t he stop? Why?

“That was dangerous. You shouldn’t have reached out.”

Yoma glanced at her, but nothing more. No emotion colored his tone, and no hint of an apology. It was the same as all of the incidents before, where his training took precedence over everything else in his life, but this time he had given up even the pretense of remorse for his actions. It was true that she had been angry before, but that was the anger reserved for a boyfriend’s annoying habits, for rooms left untidy or picky eating. This was different. 

These incidents could not quite be chalked up to personal oddities, but now in her mind she thought of them together, and the pervasive strangeness that had been present and growing in Yoma for a long while. It was not anger she felt, not really, but a sort of helpless fear of what would come next. 

For the first time, her subconscious doubts and worries that were buried and avoided surfaced in one coherent thought: Would Yoma hurt her?

  
  


Mika decided to stay the weekend at Naoko’s house, helping her to care for her daughter, who had caught a bad flu. Naoko gave her a ride back on Sunday evening, and she yawned deeply as she entered the apartment. 

Opening her eyes, she saw… A climbing gym?!

Yoma hung like a spider on the corner of the ceiling, and glanced down at the noise of her entering. She could scarcely find words to speak as she took in the sight. Every single wall of the apartment had been covered with climbing handholds of every shape and size.

“What are you doing? What happened here?” 

“Block climbing. I had this installed while you were away,” he said, turning back to the wall to find a new handhold. 

Mika was at a loss for words, and barely managed to choke out, “You covered the air conditioning switch.”

“Really? Well, I guess we won’t be needing it anymore. I was thinking of removing it anyway, to make space for a pull up machine,” he stated this in the same tone as one would say anything else, as if it was completely natural. 

Mika gathered her wits slightly, remembering what she had originally intended to confront him about. 

“What happened to my credit card?”

“I didn’t take your credit card, Mika.”

“No! I mean the money that was on it! You secretly withdrew 270000 yen from my account, what the hell did you even use that for?!” Mika was livid, this was too far. 

“I’ll give it back to you once I get a role in a movie.”

Again, her common sense was a little scattered. All she could see was red as she practically shook from anger. How dare he ruin their walls while she was away! How dare he steal that money!

“That’s it!! I’m reporting you to the police for theft!” She made a grab towards the phone on their wall, but an arm stopped her. 

“Don’t,” was all he said, but his eyes told the rest as he stood threateningly above her. Their height difference was painfully evident as she had to back up and tilt her head to look at his face. 

Mika’s adrenaline skyrocketed as Yoma stepped closer, and she let out a yell as he grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her away from the phone. She hit the wall, climbing holds undoubtedly leaving bruises, and fell to the floor. 

Her breaths came quick and short as she picked herself up and scrambled to their room, slamming and locking the door behind her. 

Shaking hands pushed their side table in front of the door as a lackluster barricade, part of her knowing it was always going to come to this and another part still not believing that this could possibly be happening. 

The silence she heard from him was terrifying as she pulled her cellphone out of her pocket and dialed up the only number she could call. It took a few tries as her racing fingers made mistakes while typing the numbers, but as soon as she heard the first stomping step coming towards the room, the phone call connected. 

“Naoko! Where are you, please, I need your help. Please, please, oh god Naoko,” her voice cracked as the steps came closer. 

“I haven’t left the parking lot of your apartment building yet, I just had to fiddle with my car a bit. What’s going on?”

He was almost at the door, and Mika curled into herself as she shrunk into the corner. 

“It’s Yoma. We had a fight. Please, come quickly, he’s going to hurt me!” she couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if he got into the room, but she knew exactly what he was capable of. 

“I’m coming now as fast as I can, Mika! Hold in there!” the sound of a car door slamming could be heard in the background of the call, and she could almost picture Naoko balancing the phone in her shoulder as she sprinted into the building. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” 

They both stayed on the line, both eternally grateful that they continued to hear the other’s breathing through the connection. 

Yoma reached the door. He pounded on it, and she imagined the mask of rage that his face was twisted into. 

“Mika. Open this door now. Don’t you dare call the cops here!” he pounded harder on the fragile wood. 

“Mika! Do you hear me right now!! Open this door!”

“Come on Mika-chan, if you open the door we can just have dinner together and relax, I don’t want this evening to get worse,” he said softly, and she knew his words were a lie.

He waited only a few seconds before dropping the nice act and continued. 

“Open the door now, or else I’m going to break it down myself!”

“On the count of three, I’m going to come in, and you’ll be fucking sorry!”

Mika whimpered into the phone, praying fervently that Naoko would arrive in time, that she would save her. 

“1…”

“2…”

“Mika, I’m going to break your fucking arm if you called the police on me. You better not have,” he took a breath before counting the last number with a shout. 

“3!” 

At that he slammed his body against the door, partially breaking it off its hinges. The barricade slowed him down a little, but not enough. He busied himself with trying to step inside as she cowered further, preemptively throwing her hands up in front of her face. 

“I swear to god when I get in there I’m going to fucking kill you, bitch!”

Mika’s eyes were wide and staring, but not at him. At that very moment, the door to their apartment opened to reveal a very out of breath Naoko, holding a fury in her eyes that seemed able to burn this entire place to the ground. 

He turned as well, snarling as he faced her. 

“What the fuck are you doing here,” he said flatly. 

Naoko didn’t listen, grabbing one of the knives off the block and in the kitchen and coming towards him. 

“Hey! Get the fuck out! This isn’t your business,” this time it was Yoma backing up in fear as she approached, but the end table and the shattered remains of the door stopped him. 

“Fine! I’ll fucking kill both of you for this!” 

It seemed that Naoko couldn’t escape the supernatural. His body seemed possessed by a spirit, its essence and power swirling around him and his muscles bulging in ways that shouldn’t have been possible for the human body. He let out a roar and charged her, the two meeting in the middle. 

One, a demon holding more strength than any man in the world and filled with murderous rage. 

The other, a middle-aged mother resolutely holding their biggest kitchen knife and filled with a slightly more experienced murderous rage. 

Mika couldn’t tear her eyes away, staring through the gaps of her fingers, unable to breath or move. 

She saw it all. Yoma barreling forward, arm poised to crack Naoko’s skull like an egg, and Naoko herself, holding her ground with her knees bent in a ready stance. She waited to move until the last moment, when Mika was sure that she was about to die. 

Her knife dug into his heart with a quiet squelching noise, and Yoma’s movements finally slowed. 

Slowed, but did not stop. 

His body propelled through supernatural force, he grabbed her neck with his hands and made as if to snap her neck on the spot. But Naoko’s eyes glowed with her own spiritual power. The city of Morioh was no stranger to people who unlocked odd abilities in their time of need, Naoko being neither the first nor the last. The life energy that flowed through her condensed into the blurry and indistinct shape of a second arm above her own.

She brought that arm down with a decisive blow, slicing both of hands that were strangling her clean off. 

Yoma stumbled back, looking at his bloody stumps with disbelief, but he did not have the chance to recoup. She lunged forward and slammed her fist into his temple, but the hazy arm above her own went all the way through his skull, killing him completely. 

In the time of a single breath after Yoma had been killed, Naoko ran over to Mika as the other woman swept her into a solid embrace. Tears leaked out of two sets of eyes as they whispered ‘thank you’s and sweet words to each other, holding themselves together as if that was the only force keeping the universe from unravelling in that moment. 

In time, they would clean up the apartment and tell others that Yoma Hashimoto had simply disappeared forever one night, but for now they sat on the floor. Naoko and Mika held each other, and above them, two blurry spirits were caught in the same embrace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo boys 2 in one day!!! I've been working on this for about a week, hope you liked it! Yes, the ending does imply they both get stands.

**Author's Note:**

> yay chapter 1


End file.
